


All I Am Is A Man, I Want The World In My Hands

by immigrantthor



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Depressed Richie Tozier, Feels, Gay Richie Tozier, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Not Canon Compliant, Suicide Attempt, You will be surprused, not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 20:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21326491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immigrantthor/pseuds/immigrantthor
Summary: A retelling of Richie's encouter with IT at the park
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 94





	1. one

If it was up to Richie, he would have been halfway to California right now. But this stupid fucking clown needed to die. And Bill had convinced him then all to stay. William Denbourgh, their fearless leader. Richie hadn't seen him in over twenty years and he'd probably bend over if Bill told him to. But then again Bill wasn't the skawny kid he used to be and he'd probably do it anyway. God how pathetic.

Richie didn't even have to think about where to go to find his token. The arcade was where he spent every minute, not having friends and all. He was surprised to see the arcade closed. It was always so full of kids. He guessed that's what happend when parents give their kids a Xbox or whatever they played these days. The thought of kids not going out to play rigged games that made you want to get in a fight brought a sadness he didn't expect.

Richie shoved his hand through a hole in the glass doors. He unlocked one and pushed it opened. Stepping inside he was greeted with a mouth full of dust. He coughed and waved his hand in front if him, only causing more to enter his mouth, which resulted in more coughing.

Taking a moment to breathe and regain himself, Richie looked around. Somehow the Capitol Theater Arcade feel just as it had 27 years ago. Covered in dirt and inhaling god knows what, Richie thinks of Eddie. How he would absolutely hate it in here. It was too dark, and dirty. All of the nonsense Sonia Kaspbrak put inside her sons head would start to spill out of his mouth. He could almost her voice._ "Don't touch that Eddie-bear. You'll get sick and infected."_ How Eddie had ever put up with that woman was a mystery to Richie. He shook the thought out of his head as he made his way father into the arcade.

When he reached the old token machine he didn't even think as he slid a quater into the slot. At first he thought it wouldn't work, which is what he expected of a machine that hadn't been properly attended to since probably the mid nineties. But he was surprised a moment later when it began to make a loud creaking and grinding noise. After about 4 more seconds of this a token deposited. Richie picked it up and examined it.

The coin was noticeably old and covered with rust. You almost couldn't tell it was gold. He pocketed the coin and let out a chuckle as he did so. Of course it was extremely like Richie to have a token as his token. He thought of what Eddie would say. Probably and insult that would only make Richie want to kiss more than he already did. Because that's what happened. Richie insults Eddie, Eddie fires right back and Richie's in love. You know, the usual.

Richie shook the thought out of his head and turned to face the game behind him. The game he spent everyday that the losers went talking playing. Street Fighter. Instead of the nostalgia that Richie expected he felt a heavy sense of dread. He was confused as to why why. He loved Street Fighter. It was his favorite. It was-

-hot. Is was so dreadfully hot in the arcade but Richie didn't notice. He was too focused on the thin, nimble fingers pressing buttons in front of him. They belonged to Connor. The boy playing Street Fighter with him. Richies hands were on autopilot. Doing exactly what they needed to do for him to win. He snuck a flame at Connor. He was too focused on the screen in front him to notice. His curls bounced as he moved his head.

"Ah. God dammit," Connor explained as he hit the game. The sound of 'game over' redirected Richie attention back to the game. He had beat Connor.

"Man, how are you so good?" Richie shrugged. Trying to be casual. He had a feeling it wasn't working.

"Practice I guess," he replied. Connor nodded and stepped back.

"Yeah well, I'll see you." He turned to leave so Richie grabbed his last token and spoke.

"I have another coin. We could play again, if you wanted to. Or not. Y-you don't have to" He hated how his desperate his voice sounded. Connor looked back at Richie and for a moment he looked as if he was going to take him up on the offer but something else caught his attention. He turned to look at Henry Bowers and his friends. The look in his eyes unsettled Richie. He turned back to Richie.

"Dude. Why are you being so weird. I'm you're fucking boyfriend you fag," he spat out with venom laced in his voice. Richie smiled instantly faded. He put his hands up in defense.

"Woah man. I wasn't- I didn't." His voice caught in his throat. He did. He did try to do what he was accusing him of.

By this time Henry was in the room. He had heard that happened.

"Yo, what the fuck's going on here?" He looked at Connor for an answer. They knew eachother. Oh no.

"You assholes didn't think to me that your shitty little town is full of fucking fairies." He pointed at Richie. Henry was now looking at him.

"Richie fucking Tozier? Are you trying to fuck my little cousin you freak." Henry Bowers cousin. His he was so stupid. He couldn't move. He was glued to the spot. His voice was gone and he was scared. "Get the fuck out you little fucking faggot," Henry yelled.

Richie felt his feet moving. He turned and started to walk. Halfway to the door he stopped and looked around. No one would look him in eye. They all just shuffled as far from him as possible. Hoping to not be the next target. Cowards, all of them. But so was he. He turned to look back at Henry. He was still looking at Richie.

"I said fucking get out! Move!" Richie turned back around but this time he ran. Ran so no one saw his tears. How could he have been so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

* * *

Richie stared at door as if it was two minuets ago that he was running out them in tears. And oh god. He was crying now too. He quickly whipped them off his cheeks but they were only replaced with new ones.

God he was pathetic. He was a 40 year old man in 2016 and was still afraid of the thought of people knowing he was gay. Well sure he had experience with men. Lots if it in fact. One night stands with me who would never know who he was. Hook ups with others who where in the same situation be was. But there was never anything serious. He had the chance so many times. He was always too scared. So scared that 5, 12, 20 years ago he.....

He looked at Street Fighter one more time and left the arcade. He walked along the sidewalk and everytime someone looked at him he was sure they knew. They knew everything. The clown, the arcade, just everything.

Richie didn't even realize where he was going until he heard the shouts of children. The park. Of course it was the fucking park. That's where he went after the arcade. Flashes went through his head. The statue of Paul Bunyan. His first one-on-one encounter with Pennywise.

"Service this Friday." A man shoved Richie and thrust a paper into his hands. He looked at the man and he turned to face him. He let out a gasp. His eyes were slid Whit and half of his face was rotted. His hair and clothes where matted with dirt and wet. He open his mouth and spoke again. "Hope to see you there handsome." He then threw the papers and winked at Richie. He turned his attention to the letter in his hands. For a second time he gasped.

** _~Ceremony for Richard Tozier, he will be missed~_ **

He started at the paper for who knows how long. He didn't notice that the sounds of the park were gone. What he did notice was a familiar and menacing laugh. He slowly raised his gaze to the Paul Bunyan statue in from of him. And sitting on the shoulder with a bunch of red balloons was a clown. With his bright orange hair, orange buttons and dirty suit.

"Oh hello, Richie. Long time no see," the clown spoke. "How bout we play a game huh? What about Street Fighter? You love that one don't you? Or truth or dare." It started to rise with the balloons. "But you wouldn't want anyone to pick truth would you?" Richie considered mentioning that it was the person getting asked that got to pick between the two but he thought it wasn't a good time. "You wouldn't want anyone to know what you're hiding, would you Trashmouth?" With a shock Richie realized what was happening. It was taunting him.

"Jesus," he let out and he started to back up. Out of thin air carnival music began to play. The clown began to sing as it started to sink down.

"I know you're secret, you dirty little secret. I know you're secret, your dirty little secret." It was on the ground now. "How about I tell them Richie? I tell them your secret." It stepped forward and Richie fell. His but hurting the concrete of the palvation.

"We're gonna k-kill you. We're gonna fucking kill y-you," he stuttered out as if he was Bill. The clown laughed.

"Kill me? You're gonna kill me? How will you do that? You can't even kill yourself Trashmouth!" Richie's heart was racing and tears were forming. He continued to back away, still on his butt and hands. How did it know. How the fuck did it know.

"Oh. Was that a secret to? If you're still interested I can do it for you. Finish what you failed to do." Richie felt his wrist burn. Exactly where the scars were. He was crying now.

Somehow he found the strength to get up. The clown was still making its way towards him. Going slow as if he wanted Richie to escape. The moment he gained balance he turned and ran. He ran and didn't look back. Not even as it yelled after him.

"Come back! Come back and play with the clown!"


	2. two

Richie felt nothing but numbmess. All he could do was just take one step at a time. He didn't even pay attention to where he was going. It wasn't liked he cared. If he felt like going a certain way then thats the way he went. As long he was away from that fucking nightmare of a clown. But he's never going to really be away from it. Not while he's still in Derry Maine. So he had to leave. He to leave Derry. Richie had no problem with that. So he changed his destination to that of the Derry town house

.

He walked for gid knows how long until he arrived. When he walked in Beverly and Ben where sitting at the bottom of the steps. Right in his way. They were probably having some super meaningful conversation that would be super important if this were a movie or show. Well too bad for them. He needed past.

"Move," he said as he roughly pushed past them. They turned to look at him but he kept going.

"Hey, Richie? Are you okay?" Beverly asked. He stopped and turned to face her. Trying to shove his hands as deep as they could go in his pockets. The burning feeling still there and still not showing any signs of fading soon. He thought for a moment. He let out a laugh.

"Am I okay? No, Beverly. I am not oh-fucking-kay. I'm getting my shit together and I'm leaving. I'm leaving this shithole and I am never looking back. If you wanna stay and get killed by that godforsaken fucking clown, then you go right ahead. I have some coming sense," he snapped at her. She didn't deserve it. But he couldn't help it, he just wanted to back to L.A. to his terribly unfamiliar apartment and drick loads of alcohol. He turned and started back up the steps. He heard Ben call after him but he didn't stop.

The moment he got to his room he locked the door. He started to throw his things in his bag, cursing himself for even unpacking in the firstplace. By now Ben had reached his room. He softly knocked and called for Richie.

"Richie. Please open the door. Whatever happened we can talk about. You don't have to leave." Richie almost considered letting him in. "Please, Richie." God. Why did Ben have to be so persuasive. He unlocked the door, letting Ben open it on his own. He sat on bed and looked up at Richie.

"What happened?" he spoke is a soft voice. As if he was speaking to a broken animal. But he kinda was in truth. Richie was so broken. And he was so scared. He sat next to Ben, tears already threatening to spill. For a moment they sat in silence before Richie broke it.

"You know, 5 years ago I tried to kill myself," he spoke after a moment of consideration. He looked at Ben. His face was shocked, and his eyes were sad. And Richie was so stupid for even telling him. But now that he stares he couldn't stop. Richie lifted his jacket off his wrist and traced his other hand over the thin, pale scar. They still burned, as if they would never stop. He continued.

"I slit my wrist, like Stan did. I wanted to die, and I almost did. My manager was the one that found me." Richie was crying now. So was Ben. He put a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"Richie," he trailed off not really sure what to say.

"It wasn't j-just once," he could barely get words out through his sobs. God look him. Sobbing in front Ben. He was so pathetic. "When I w-was twenty, in c-college. I swallow a b-bottle of pills. My r-roommate found me. When I was 28 I tried again. With the p-pills again. But this time str-stronger But it didn't work. It n-never w-worked."

Richie remembered how he woke in the hospital the second time. He was alone. No one, not even his parents had been there for him. Later he found out that the only reason someone found him was because his neighbor had complained about how loud his music was to the building manager.

He collapsed into more sobs at the thought. Ben pulled him into a hug and carefully stroked his head.

"It's okay Richie. You're fine. You're here, you're fine." Richie could tell he was sobbing to. He was probably a cute crier. Because he's Ben Hanscom and of course he would be. He pulled away, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself.

"It's not okay. It'll never be okay. Because that fucking cl-clown knows. It knows everything, Ben." Ben put his hand on Richies shoulder once more. His eyes were planted on the floor. He gave Richies shoulder squeeze and then looked up.

"I am so sorry Richie. I'm so sorry you ever felt like that. But we're not going to let that fucking clown win." It was weird hearing Ben curse. But it made Richie smile. Ben smiled back and continued, "We're gonna kill it. I promise. But we need you, Richie. We can't do it without you. You have to stay." Goddam Ben Hanscom with his attractive face and amazing powers of persuasion.

"Okay," Richie spoke in what was almost a whisper. Ben opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but instead he pulled him into a hug. Richie gladly hugged back.

After a minute passed Richie pulled away. Now calmed down and no longer crying. He looked at Ben.

"Go," he said. With Ben's confusion he added, "To Beverly. I know you two were talking about something important before I ruined it. Go talk to her." He nodded and sat up. He began to leave but stopped when he reached the door. He looked back.

"Everything's gonna be okay Richie." And for a moment, he believed him. He gave a reassuring smile but once the door closed it was gone. Who was Ben kidding, it wouldn't be okay. They were going to die. He fell back onto the bed with a sigh.

Maybe he should leave. But Ben would be so disappointed. No, he really should leave. But what if the others died. What if they died because of of him.

"Oh god, what the fuck," he said to no one. Richie rubbed his eyes but kept his hands over them. He really was a hot mess wasnt he?

A creaking in the hallway caught his attention. It couldn't have been Ben. He just left. He started up and quietly aproached the door. Slowly opening it he was met with the beautiful face of Eddie Kaspbrak. His hand was raised as if he was going to knock before Richie opened the door.

"Oh uh. Hi, Richie," he muttered out. His hand still in the air. Richie cocked his eyebrow.

"Why are you saying hello like you weren't just about to knock on my door?" he asked. Already feeling more like himself than he did 10 minuets ago. But then again that's what Eddie did to him. He always made him feel normal, even though he wasn't.

Eddie shifted, finally putting his hand down. He looked towards the floor then back up at Richie. He was nervous. But Richie couldn't understand why.

"I just- I was wondering. If I could talk to you. In-in private." Richie stepped back and held the door open.

"As you wish my lord," he said in a tacky mid-evil voice. Eddie glared at him as he walked past. Richie just grinned back. "So, Eddie. What do I get on this fine visit of yours?"

"I just wanted to talk to you," Eddie replied. His voice was quiet and laced with something Richie couldn't place.

"Okay. Then spill. Talk to me." Richie could tell his heart beat rising. He didn't know why, but something about Eddie was making him nervous.

"Well, it's just... coming back to Derry has brought up stuff. Stuff I never remembered, obviously. Stuff that's making me think about what I'm doing with my life." Eddie sat on the edge of Richie's bed. He looked up at him with his mouth slightly parted and Richies knees almost buckled. He swallowed a hard lump in his throat.

"Like what?" he manged to get out. Eddie looked down.

"Just, who I am." He looked back up and looked Richie directly in the eyes. "What I want." Richie's palms were sweating. His heart was beating so fast that he was sure Eddie could hear. Eddie with his beautiful features. The small wrinkles at his eyes and the one on his forehead when he frowned. How his hair curled at the name of his neck. His dark eyes and how bright they looked right now. Eddie was perfection in his eyes. And he would never be brave enough to tell him that. But god, Eddie was so brave. The bravest person he knew. Fighting a demon clown with a broken arm, telling off his mom, going head to head with Henry Bowers and his gang. Richie was in awe of how brave he was.

"W-what do you want?" Richie stuttered out. Eddie stood up and slowly walked towards him.

"Richie." Richie was shaking. Eddie was in front of him now. So close but so far. Eddie reached a hand up and cupped his cheek. This was not happening. There was no way this was really happening. He was married, to a woman.

"Eddie-" Eddie cut him off by kissing him. Richie didn't know what to do other than kiss back. He'd wanted this since he was thirteen years old. So why did it feel off? Why did it feel unnatural?

Eddies lips tasted weird. Like he was wearing makeup or something. Wait, makeup. He was wearing clown makeup. No, it was wearing clown makeup. This wasn't Eddie.

He pushed it away and staggered back. Eddie- no the clown. Fell to the ground. It began to laugh. It's eyes were no longer the brown Richie loved, but yellow.

"Oh Richie. Don't you want you want me? I thought I was all you dreamed of. 27 years and you're still stuck on someone who will never love you back," it taunted. It's voice was Eddies but there was an unnerving pitch along with it. Richie kept backing up. Only stoping when he hit the wall.

"You're not Eddie. You're not real." Fake Eddie fained hurt.

"Oh but you sure are real. So terriblely real and fragile." The burning on Richies wrist were worst than ever. It was as if someone was holding red hot metal agiast them. He cried out in pain, cluching them. He fell to the ground. It stood up and made its way over. "I might as well finish this for you. It's what you want isn't it?" With a jolt Richie realized something. He didn't want to die. Not now. He was back in Derry and somewhere out there was Eddie. His Eddie. Not this stupid fucking clown.

"No. I don't want to die. And I'm not going to. And you are not Edidie Kaspbrak." Richie stood up from the floor. The clown stopped in its tracks. 

"But Richie. Don't I look like him?" Richie shook his head. And again for forth time in the past three hours, be began to cry.

"No. You're nothing like him. He's the best person I will ever know. He is the kindest, bravest, loyalist man ever. And I live him with every being in my body. But you? You're just some fucking clown." With that Richie grabbed his bag from earlier and ran out of the room.

He was thankful that the others were downstairs because he probably looked like a wreck. He glanced down the hallway looking for an edit other than the stairs. He spotted a door to outside and he ran did it. It opened to a balcony. He ran down the steps on the side, taking two at a time. Racing for his car he looked behind him. No Eddie. No clown.

He reached his car and threw his bag inside. Slamming the door Richie took a moment to breath. He watched his chest rise fast and hard until it slowed. Closing his eyes and taking a last deep breath he started the car. He had no idea where he was going. But he knew one thing. He had to find Eddie.


End file.
